


Across the grass (my heart and lute remix)

by redsnake05



Category: Little Women Series - Louisa May Alcott
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 18:09:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4273011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redsnake05/pseuds/redsnake05
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beth finds the courage to walk alone, first to fulfill her love of music, and then a rather longer, more solitary journey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Across the grass (my heart and lute remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Missy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Keeping Time](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2236284) by [Missy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy). 



It was cold when Beth woke, with the earliest grey light filtering through the curtains in the little room she shared. She slipped out of bed and over to the window, peeping out at the day. It looked ordinary, damp and vague and nothing like as momentous as it should. She squeezed her eyes shut tight and imagined walking across the dewy grass, over to the big house waiting for her, doors now open. She felt slightly sick with nerves, but could almost feel the lovely, smooth keys under her fingers and the imagined sound of swelling notes mirrored the excited feeling in her chest.

She turned back from the window and slipped into Jo's bed. Jo stirred and shifted to make room.

"You're freezing," Jo muttered. "Hands like ice." She rubbed them in an uncoordinated way and settled back down sleepily. 

"Jo," whispered Beth, hooking her chin over Jo's shoulder.

"Shh, sleeping," said Jo. Beth tried again, poking her in the arm gently. Jo made a grumpy noise, but tilted her head and looked up at Beth. Her eyes were half closed, but Beth knew she was listening.

"Will you always want me to make music for your plays?" Beth asked. Jo made a confused noise and turned over further, making an effort to open her eyes and look at Beth properly. She blinked several times and yawned.

"Who else would I want making music for my plays?" she asked, finally seeming to understand what Beth wanted her to answer. "But you like to play for yourself, too, right?"

"I think so," said Beth, tucking her face into Jo's neck. Jo, even mostly asleep, had seen right to the heart of the problem. What if Beth braved the lions of the big house, slipped into the sacred house of her music, and found that it wasn't what she wanted? That was what she was really scared of, though she had never spoken of it to anyone.

"Put your feet against me," said Jo. "You'll never sleep with them cold like that. In the morning, the piano will still be there, and you'll still have your fingers. Sleep."

She yawned and drifted back to sleep, and Beth curled up against her back and thought of what Jo said. The music would be waiting for her in the morning and she would either go or not. She hoped she would find a way to brave the dangers, but she knew no one would speak of it if she did not. The thought hardened her resolve, and she imagined herself crossing the grass of the big house and slipping in the side door, and the piano waiting for her at the end. It didn't matter if it turned out that music wasn't what she thought it was. She would still have her fingers, and her courage, and that would, indeed, be enough.

>>>>

When Beth sat at the piano, she could nearly forget the world around her. Whether she was in their own tiny parlour or in the grand music room, she could immerse herself in the music. It was sometimes like she disappeared and the music - for dancing, writing, art or bittersweet pleasure - consumed her. It frightened her, sometimes, how she could fly with her music, weep with it, burn with it, and come away transformed on the inside, every time.

When Laurie sat beside her at the keyboard, she wondered if he felt it too. She looked down at the keys as he looked at her.

"Why do you play?" he asked. 

"To make others happy, so they are never alone," she said, and thought, again, of how often her music started in service, before becoming her passion. She wrote little airs for Jo's plays, perfected the latest waltz tunes for Meg, and mastered the dreamy strains that Amy found so soothing. She played all the old favourites that old Mr Laurence loved, forgetting his presence in the room as she played and sang, until she looked up to find him also lost in his past. 

He took Beth's hand in his and she looked up at him fleetingly, seeing the kindness of his smile, and for a moment wanted to lose herself in that too, to see what it would be like to leave her fingers wrapped in his strong hand. Flushing, embarrassed, she drew back her hand and looked down at the keys again.

"It makes for good company, as well," she said. 

Laurie made a noise of agreement and shifted away from her on the bench, rummaging in the basket full of music. Beth pressed her fingers to her face and took a deep breath. 

"I found some music the other day," said Laurie, emerging triumphant from the basket with some sheet music in his hand. "It was in the attic; I think it must have been my grandfather's, a long time ago. Someone has arranged it as a duet, though the original is here too. Will you try it with me?"

"Of course," said Beth. "For you need company in music, or you will become too solitary and lost in it."

"We are company for each other, then," said Laurie. Beth met his eyes for a fleeting moment and knew that they were alike in the transformation they felt when playing. She rested her fingers on the back of his hand for just a moment.

"Yes," she agreed.

>>>>

Jo was there when Beth closed the lid of her piano for the last time. Beth knew she was trying not to watch as Beth smoothed her fingers over the warm polished wood, as she shakily stood and came back to the small sofa under the window of her room. Jo put her arm around Beth without needing to be asked, and Beth snuggled gratefully into her shoulder. She stayed calm for a moment, but the tears came and she wept quietly for long minutes. When she eventually straightened up, Jo's eyes were wet too.

"What will I do now?" Beth whispered. "I can't write the music for your plays, but the keys are too hard for me to press anymore."

"Music was always something for you," Jo said. "We all found pleasure in it, because you did, but it was the same pleasure we got just from your existence. You still have your fingers, and I can still hold your hand."

Beth leaned her head back on Jo's shoulder. She knew that soon she would have to let go of Jo's hand and walk into the future alone. It didn't scare her anymore; she could fearlessly cross the grass that led to the gates. There would be music in heaven, waiting for her, and, if she lost herself in it, she didn't think that would be wrong ever again.

**Author's Note:**

> The music Laurie finds for them to play is _My Heart and Lute_ by Thomas Moore.
> 
> I give thee all--I can no more--  
> Tho' poor the offering be;  
> My heart and lute are all the store  
> That I can bring to thee.  
> A lute whose gentle song reveals  
> The soul of love full well;  
> And, better far, a heart that feels  
> Much more than lute could tell.  
> Tho' love and song may fail, alas!  
> To keep life's clouds away,  
> At least 'twill make them lighter pass,  
> Or gild them if they stay.  
> And even if Care at moments flings  
> A discord o'er life's happy strain,  
> Let Love but gently touch the strings,  
> 'Twill all be sweet again!


End file.
